Forgiven (8 page)

Katy could barely concentrate. All she could think about was something her mother had always told her. That sometimes on the journey to being a grown-up, something would happen that would advance the trip a whole year in a single day.

Graduation or a first speeding ticket or the first night in your own apart ment.

Katy pressed her elbows to her sides, bracing herself. This was one of those times.

The doctor met Katy’s eyes. “Alice Stryker and both her kids are alive, but they all have serious injuries. The Hanovers’ daughter, Brandy, is in serious condition. She has a punctured lung and a shattered femur. She’s going to need surgery yet to night, but we feel good about her chances. The most critical is the twelve-year-old, Sarah Jo Stryker. She has severe head inju ries. The next twenty-four hours will be critical.”

Katy touched her fingers to her throat. SarahJo had head in juries? What would that mean when she had time to recover? And what if… ? No, she couldn’t think like that. She massaged the muscles in her neck and caught a glimpse of Rhonda.

Her thumb and forefinger were pressing against her temples.

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Rhonda kept her head low, her eyes focused on her knees. No question she wasn’t ready for whatever else might be coming.

The doctor seemed to look at something near his feet. Then he released a slow sigh, and Katy knew. She knew without a doubt that whatever news the doctor was about to share, it wouldn’t be good. It wouldn’t be mildly terrible. Rather it would be devastating. “I’m afraid the Hanovers’ son, Ben, didn’t make it. He died on the way to the hospital.”

The news came at Katy like a battering ram. She bent over her knees and rocked forward. Not little Ben. Not the pixie-haired, brown-eyed kid who at six years old was only this week able to take his first CKT class. Katy closed her eyes and pictured him, sitting next to his mother at auditions earlier today, swinging his legs and grinning. Before they left he’d come up to her and tugged on her sleeve.

“Guess what?” He had been so excited he could barely get the words out. “My mommy says in two years I get to try out. Can we do Peter Pan in two years, Katy?”

Now there would be no Peter Pan for Ben, no CKT class to attend, nothing. She moaned and sat up a bit. Her body knew the way through this type of pain. Losing her boyfriend, Tad, three years earlier had prepared her for this sort of moment, but Tad had killed himself with drugs. Ben Hanover never even got the chance to live.

Rhonda was crying, her head still in her hands. Katy’s eyes were dry, but only because fear and shock hadn’t given sorrow the upper hand. She looked at the doctor. “How are the Hanovers?”

“Times like this are never easy.” The doctor pursed his lips. “They want to be alone with their daughter.”

“Of course.” Katy pressed her fists against her middle, trying to relieve the tightness there. Ben was gone, and now what about the injured kids? “Have they told Brandy?”

“Not yet.”

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She held the doctor’s eyes for a few more seconds. Then she put her hand on Rhonda’s shoulder. “We’ll be okay.”

The doctor gave them a sad nod, turned, and walked back through the doors into the emergency room.

Another low moan came from Katy as her eyes met Rhonda’s.

“What’re we supposed to do next?”

“I don’t know.”

Katy leaned back against the vinyl seat, and her eyes welled up. They’d lost little Ben, and now they would have to wait and see about Sarah Jo. The scream from a few minutes ago played again in Katy’s mind. Of course the Hanovers weren’t okay. They’d never be the same again.

“Alice Stryker never takes kids out after CKT.” Rhonda pulled her knees up to her chest. “She’s the most standoffish woman in the group, and now…”

“Now this.”

They were quiet for a while. There was nothing to say, no words that could undo the news they’d learned. They had practi cal concerns too. A decision had to be made about the next day. Katy drew a long, sad-sounding breath. “What about auditions tomorrow?”

Rhonda shook her head, her eyes distant. “We can hardly can cel it now. Besides, canceling it wouldn’t change anything here.”

She was right. Katy thought about the options. They could cancel auditions with a round of calls in the morning. But that would send shock waves throughout the organization. They would have to reschedule the session, anyway. And with every one knowing the truth about what happened, it would be even harder to get through.

Finally Katy pulled her cell phone from her pocket. “I’m call ing Bethany.

She’ll know what to do.”

The call was short. She explained the situation, that Ben Hanover was dead and the rest were seriously injured. “Sarah Jo’s in bad shape. They’ll know more in twenty-four hours.”

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“Okay, then.” Bethany was emotional. “Go ahead with callbacks. Then you can make an announcement when auditions are finished.”

“Right.” Katy brushed her hair off her face. “That’ll work.” Tears fell onto her cheeks, and she caught them on her fingertips. “Keep praying.”

Bethany’s voice was thick. “I haven’t stopped.”

When she folded her cell phone, Katy and Rhonda bowed their heads and begged God to breathe life into Sarah Jo and the others.

After that, there was nothing to do but go home. On the way, Katy caught herself humming an old show tune, one that filled the car even as tears slid down her face. The song was “I’m Flying,” a favorite from the musical Peter Pan, and one that all the kids liked. A few had sung it at auditions just hours ago.

But the song was especially loved by a little six-year-old boy, a boy who would never tug on her sleeve again.

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……….

DAYNE MATTHEWS MADE THE DECISION over the weekend. He would go to Bloomington a few days early, get familiar with the location, and have a little quiet time. At least that’s what he was about to tell Mitch Henry, the director of Dream On.

He pulled into the studio parking lot and looked—for a second-at the place where the yellow Honda had parked during the summer. The place where Margie Madden—the psycho fan who called herself Chloe and Anna and probably a dozen other names—would sit for hours, watching, waiting for him. She had tried to kill him and Katy Hart on Katy’s last visit to Hollywood. Now he couldn’t pull into the studio lot without remembering the Madden woman and chiding himself.

Why hadn’t he noticed her sooner? Katy might be starring opposite him in the film if not for her attack on them in Paradise Cove.

Dayne let the thought pass. He was inside in two minutes, walking down the hall to Mitch’s office. The man had been hired as casting director for the film, but the big dogs with the money had put him in charge of the whole thing.

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Mitch was sitting at his desk, looking at something on his computer screen. His eyes lifted as Dayne walked into the room. “Hey.”

“Hi.” Dayne sank into the leather love seat on the right side of the office.

“Everything lined up for the location shoot?”

“Yep.” He clicked his mouse a few times and spun his chair in Dayne’s direction.

“Reservations are in order, and we’ve got the outdoor areas covered with local police assistance. Which wasn’t easy since we moved the schedule up a month.” He gripped the arms of his chair. “Yes, we’re all set in Bloomington, Indiana.” His grin was more than a little sarcastic. “Just the way you wanted it.”

Dayne tipped the brim of his baseball cap. “Much obliged.” “Yeah, well…” Mitch lowered his chin and pointed at Dayne. “Mind yourself, Matthews. I have a funny feeling about this shoot.”

“You know what it is, Mitch?” Dayne stood, crossed the room, and grabbed a fast-food wrapper from his director’s desk. “Indigestion. Cut back on the cheeseburgers and relax a little.” He leaned closer. “The location’s perfect.”

“Fine.” Mitch motioned to the chair across from him. “Have a seat. You didn’t come here to talk about my eating habits.”

“True.” Dayne chuckled, took a step back, and sat down. He waited a beat, his eyes locked on Mitch’s. “Okay, this is it. I’m going to Bloomington a few days early.”

“A few days?”

“I’m heading out Thursday. Just to look around.”

Mitch wasn’t buying it. He had an eyebrow raised. “What’s to see? Come on—be straight with me.”

“You want the truth?” Dayne felt the smile leave his face.

Maybe it was time to open up a little with Mitch “I need a few days to myself, okay?” “I’m listening.”

Dayne anchored his forearms on his knees and stared out the 63

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window at the Hollywood hills. “I’m thinking about getting into Kabbalah.”

“Madonna’s church?” There was no condemnation in the director’s tone. “I’ve heard good things about it.”

“It isn’t a church.” He’d read half the book. Now he searched for a way to sum it up. “It’s a mind-set, I guess. Avoiding negative thoughts, finding the god within yourself, that sort of thing.”

“Hmmm.” Mitch took a pencil from a holder near the edge of his desk and rolled it between his fingers. “You need Bloomington for that?”

Dayne clasped his hands and stared at the floor between his feet. “Things are stale with Kelly.” He looked up. “I don’t want it to affect the film.”

“Stale?” Mitch tapped the pencil on one of the files spread out in front of him.

Fine lines appeared near the corners of his eyes. “Bad timing for stale, Matthews.”

“I know.” He pursed his lips and exhaled. “I think a week apart would be good for us.”

“Wasn’t she in New York the other day?”

“Yep.” He sat up straighter and squinted. “It felt good as gold having the time to myself. I need more, that’s all.” He shook his head. “I’m worried about the chemistry.”

Mitch stuck the pencil behind his ear. “You two sizzle on the screen. You always have.”

“Yeah… before we lived together.” He hated talking about Kelly this way, but it was the truth. He’d asked her to move in with him because Katy Hart was gone from his life for good, and that left him with no one but starlets who understood his place in the public eye and everything that went with it. Even attacks by crazy fans. He forced a lighter expression “Don’t worry about it, Mitch. We’ll be fine.”

“Dream On’s a love story.” The director set his elbows on his 64

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desk and let his shoulders fall forward. “I’ll be looking for a lot better than fine. So you’re going alone, leaving Thursday?”

“Right. Kelly has things to do here. She’ll come with the rest of you next Monday.”

Mitch studied him for half a minute. Then he took the pencil from behind his ear and pointed it at Dayne. “It’s the girl, isn’t it? That’s why you’re going early.”

“It’s not the girl.” The words came easily, but Dayne wasn’t sure whom he was trying to convince—Mitch or himself. “She has her own life. I probably won’t see her the whole time I’m there.”

“That’s a big probably.” Mitch leaned back and kicked one leg up over his other knee. His eyes didn’t leave Dayne’s for a moment. “Stay away from her.”

“I said I wasn’t going to see her.” His voice was louder than before. He hated this, hated how everything he did was scrutinized and commented on. “What’s the big deal?”

“The two of you are tied up in an attempted murder case— that’s what.” Mitch stood and slipped his hands into the pockets of his Dockers. He stayed behind his desk and paced a few steps in either direction. “We’ve done a brilliant job keeping her name out of the tabloids. Brilliant.” Mitch threw his hands up and let out a frustrated sound. “The bloodthirsty paparazzi would have a circus if they got their hands on the real story.”

“What real story?” Dayne wasn’t backing down. No one would make the connection between a small-town drama instructor and the mystery girl from the incident on the beach in July.

Mitch leaned onto his desk, his arms locked at the elbow, and glared at him.

“You know how it goes: ‘Dayne Matthews’ Mystery Girl Found! Hollywood star takes live-in leading lady on location to hook up with small-town secret lover.’” He hit his hand against the desk, his tone frustrated. “I can’t have that, Dayne.

The story is the movie. The fact that you’re sleeping with 65

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Kelly Parker only makes it better. Real love hits the screen— that’s the story.”

Dayne felt the fight leave him. Mitch had a point. With the pending trial, it would be impossible to keep Katy Hart’s name out of the tabloids. But clearly he would be the bigger story, as long as the two of them stayed friends, nothing more. The trial was set for May, eight months away. The defense won extra time to prepare for the insane woman’s mental evaluations. He pressed his palm against his forehead. All he wanted was a chance to see Katy again. One more time. Did that have to be such a big story, so newsworthy? Was everything he did bound to make headlines?

Dayne dropped his hands to his lap and shrugged. “I’ll stay away from her, Mitch. Is that what you want me to tell you?” He stood and walked to the window.

A thin layer of brown smog hung over the dry brush on the hillsides. Whoever said CA was the prettiest place on earth didn’t travel much. He turned and looked at his director again. “Okay? I’ll stay away.”

“You better.” Mitch nodded toward the door. “Go have your time away, Matthews.

I’ll see you there next Tuesday morning, nine o’clock, in the hotel lobby. We’ll have a meeting; then we’ll caravan to the location spot, check it out, and make plans for Wednesday’s shoot.” He paused. “Maybe that Kabbalah would be good for you.” He grinned, his usual sign that the air was clear and all was okay between them. He sat back down and looked at his computer screen again. “You know, take care of all those hostilities you have.”

Dayne laughed. “Maybe so.” He turned to leave.

Before he was out the door, Mitch said, “Hey, Matthews.” Dayne stopped and faced him once more. “Yeah?” “I know you, okay?”

“So?” Dayne leaned against the doorframe.

“So keep under the radar. Be smarter than the tabs.”

There was a look in the director’s eyes, a knowing that said 66